The rain fell with a melancholic constancy, as if the sky were trying to erase the world drop by drop. Each impact against the pavement was a stifled whisper, an ancient lament lost in the echoes of a sleeping city.
Beneath the bridge, where the concrete offered a half-refuge, only long shadows remained, a flickering fire... and two souls suspended in an instant that seemed not to belong to time.
The small campfire flickered stubbornly, as if refusing to die. Its tiny but stubborn flames danced with a life that seemed to defy the rain that threatened beyond the bridge.
Every spark was a breath.
A heartbeat. An unspoken word.
The light they projected stretched and shrank on the damp walls,
creating distorted, broken figures...like fragments of half-formed dreams.
Shadows that didn't know if they were memories or inventions of pain.
But they still fought to exist. To take shape. To return.
As if fire—that small, stubborn fire—also had things to tell.
Stories no one wanted to hear. Confessions that only burned on nights when everything hurts the most... and then fell silent.
The air was filled with warm smoke, damp earth, and something even harder to name:
a sweet sadness.
Not a crushing sadness, but one that settles slowly in your chest, and you breathe it in as if it were part of your body.
It was the kind of sadness that doesn't ask for tears.
Just silence. And company.
Because that silence wasn't empty.
It wasn't broken.
It was felt.
Like an invisible cloak enveloping them both.
As if the world, for a moment, had stopped so they could exist... without having to explain anything.
And in the midst of that tense calm,
of the soft crackling, of the smell of rain and ash, the bonfire not only illuminated...
it listened.
As if he knew that sometimes hearts aren't healed with words...
but with fire. With presence. With that silent certainty of knowing that, no matter how broken you are,
someone is still there.
And amidst that thick silence,
so dense it could be felt on one's skin,
Rei Tsukishiro sat, his back straight, his face covered in drops.
His posture was firm, almost unwavering...but his soul trembled beneath the surface.
His eyes, always sharp as knives,
were now lost in the ebb and flow of the fire. They no longer cut. They only looked. As if searching for a voice among the sparks. An answer. A sign. Something that could ease the knot he carried so well hidden.
The flames danced with their own language,
and in each flash, I seemed to see fragments of a past that refused to die. Fleeting images. Faces that were no longer there. Words that were never spoken.
As if each flame reminded him of something he didn't want to feel again...
...but that never stopped burning inside him.
He didn't speak.
He didn't move. He barely breathed.
And then, a spark jumped.
A warm flash broke the darkness, illuminating her face for an instant. Just a second. But long enough to reveal what she dared not show.
A single drop slid from his hair, running down his cheek.
It wasn't a tear. But it felt like one. As if the sky were crying for him... because he couldn't do it anymore.
Rei lowered his gaze.
His fingers, interlaced on his knees, clenched tightly, as if that gesture could contain what threatened to break him from within.
It was a silent pressure.
An ancient pain. The kind that doesn't scream, but weighs heavily.
And yet, it was still there.
He didn't run away.
He didn't hide. He didn't ask for help.
He simply... endured.
With the fire as his only witness. With the rain falling like a sad song about a weary warrior.
I had no strength.
But I no longer needed strength. I had something else.
Determination.
A decision born not from anger,
but from a desire not to repeat the same mistake. Not to lose someone again... even if he didn't yet know why he cared so much about them.
And while the fire continued to beat like a shared heart,
Rei Tsukishiro stood there. Still. Present.
Burning in silence,
as only those who have suffered alone can burn...and have decided not to allow another to suffer the same.
The rain kept falling, constant, like an endless whisper that caressed the world with melancholy.
It pounded the concrete, the water accumulating in small puddles that reflected the flickering light of the fire. And yet, the bonfire didn't go out .
He blinked.
He breathed.
He lived.
As if listening.
As if understanding...that not all fires burn from the outside.
Rei stood motionless, her silhouette silhouetted by the orange light that flickered with every breath of wind.
Her hair plastered to her forehead, drops of rain slowly sliding down her neck. She clenched her jaw. And then... she exhaled. Long. Slowly. Almost resigned.
But it wasn't surrender.
It was acceptance .
Of something that could no longer be silenced.
"I didn't do it because it was the right thing to do," he murmured, not looking at anyone, as if talking to fire itself.
"Or out of duty...
" "Or instinct."
His words were lost for a moment among the murmur of the rain and the crackling of the wet firewood.
Then he lowered his head, his voice trembling slightly... as if what was coming hurt him more than any wound.
—I did it... because I cared about her.
—Because, for the first time in a long time...
He paused.
His eyes, fixed on the flames, shone with something that wasn't reflection. It was feeling .
—...someone was trembling in front of me,
and I...
didn't want to be a spectator anymore.
The last words fell like a stone in still water.
His voice was low, but firm. He didn't need to shout.
Each word carried his full weight.
Rei closed her eyes for a moment, and continued, barely in a whisper:
—I'm tired of watching people suffer while I just... watch from the shadows.
—This time...I couldn't. I didn't want to.
He brought a hand to his chest, unconsciously, as if trying to calm an invisible echo.
"His gaze..." he was pleading for help, even if he didn't say it.
"And for a second..."
I felt like if I didn't do something... I'd regret it for the rest of my life.
The fire responded with a loud crackle, as if in silent approval.
And outside, the rain continued to fall.
Rei opened her eyes slowly.
There was something different in her gaze now. Not pain.
Conviction.
—Maybe I don't know how to protect someone...
—Maybe I've never done it right. —But if she trembles again... —I swear I won't look away this time.
Another spark flew.
The fire began to glow again, softly, like a timid heartbeat amidst so much silence.
Rei kept his gaze fixed on the flames,
as if searching within them for an answer he couldn't find within himself.
"I didn't know what to do," he murmured, his voice low, almost to himself.
"I'm no good at this." "I don't know how you're supposed to take care of someone," he said, "or what to say or how to act."
He pressed his lips together.
He swallowed. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if that would calm the turmoil inside him.
—I just... did it.
His voice cracked slightly.
And then he lowered his head.
—My body moved before I could even think about it.
—As if something inside me already knew I had to do it...even though I didn't understand it.
The rain continued to fall, caressing the concrete with its constant murmur,
as if even the sky had stopped to listen.
—I don't even know her.
—I don't know who she is. —I don't know where she comes from... or what she's been through. —And yet...
He opened his eyes slowly.
His pupils reflected fire. But there was something else there: a faint, honest glow that barely showed itself.
—Even so... I couldn't leave her there.
—Trembling.—Alone.—So fragile...
His voice became a whisper, almost invisible.
—I don't know why...
but I cared. I really cared.
Their words hung suspended between the heat of the fire and the humidity of the night.
They didn't ask for forgiveness. They didn't seek understanding.
They just needed to be said.
As if, by saying them, he could understand a little more about himself.
And the fire... didn't respond.
But it didn't go out either. It continued to burn, silent and faithful. As if it were saying:
"It's okay. Here you are. That's enough."
And the fire, stubborn and silent, continued to burn .
Water trickled from his hair in slow strands, slid down his jaw, and was lost in the warm mist emanating from his body.
The contrast between the cold of the rain and the heat of the fire enveloped him in a spectral haze, as if he were trapped between two worlds.
He was soaked to the bone.
His clothes clung to his skin like a second shadow. But he didn't move. He didn't tremble.
He just breathed... slowly. Deeply.
As if each inhalation were a thread holding him together. As if letting out a breath suddenly meant breaking forever.
There, under the bridge, he wasn't a boy .
He was a figure sculpted by the night, the rain, and the silence. A spirit of smoke and stone, embraced by a tiny fire that lived on... only because he did too.
His wet hair fell over his eyes, sticking like a dark curtain separating him from the outside world.
And behind that wet curtain, a motionless face... too calm.
So still it was unsettling.
So serene it seemed too far away , as if his soul had become stranded somewhere no one else could reach.
Every time she exhaled, a small cloud of steam escaped her lips.
Brief. Fragile. And it dissolved instantly, as if her breath itself wanted to disappear.
A spark from the fire suddenly crackled, like a whisper trying to call him back.
But he was still there... trapped in that moment.
Amidst the smoke, the rain, and the silence, Rei Tsukishiro seemed like a broken promise...
One the world had forgotten, but one he himself still dared not abandon.
He said nothing.
He didn't move. He just stood there...motionless, as if his soaked body had been trapped in an instant suspended between the past and something yet to arrive. A moment that neither fire, nor rain, nor time could touch.
Droplets trickled down his face, merging with the steam rising from his warm skin.
The mist surrounded him like a veil, blurring the edges of his figure...as if the world itself doubted his existence.
And yet, there it was.
Alive. Breathing. Thinking.
But inside, everything was an abyss of noise and memories.
As if the silence outside were merely a curtain hiding a muffled cry, growing deep within his chest.
"Why did I stop?"
"Why didn't I leave her behind...?"
The flames of the campfire flickered with brief life, throwing tiny sparks into the air as if the fire were trying to speak.
Each one rose, shone... and died. So quickly. So fragile. But for Rei, each one was a blow to the chest. An echo of something she didn't want to see again.
An image passed through him without permission.
It didn't ask to enter. It didn't give any signs. It just arrived...like a silent thunderclap in the midst of the calm.
Her hand.
Trembling in the rain. Clinging to nothing. Barely a gesture, but so desperate... it remained etched in his retinas like a scar.
And his voice...
Broken. A whisper muffled by the roar of the storm, as if speaking from an abyss. As if, in saying his name, he were throwing a rope to the edge of darkness, hoping someone—him—would take it.
Rei clenched his fists. His breathing grew thicker, laden with that heat that didn't come from the fire, but from a weight burning from within.
He remembered her eyes. Hers. Wide, open with fear. But not empty. Not surrendered. They were searching for something. Something he wasn't sure he could give... but that, even so, she asked for.
A reason.
Proof. A truth that said, "All is not lost."
And then he remembered his own.
His own eyes. Hard. Cold. Burning with blind rage. A formless fury that didn't even know at whom it was directed. Maybe at the world. Maybe at himself.
"Why did I react like that...?"
"What was that I felt when I saw her fall...?"
A spark from the fire erupted, reflecting in her pupils.
Rei closed her eyes for a moment, as if she needed to extinguish that image from within. But it was useless. She was already marked.
And no matter how much he tried to justify it, no matter how much he repeated in his mind that he only acted on impulse...
...he knew it wasn't true.
It wasn't just duty.
It wasn't pity. It wasn't habit.
It was her.
Her presence. Her fragility. Her way of not giving up, even when she was about to fall. That was what shook him from the inside.
And amidst the murmur of the rain and the soft crackling of the campfire, Rei looked down.
She said nothing. But deep down, she knew: something had changed. And there was no turning back now.
Rei gritted his teeth, and the crackling of the fire seemed to answer him.
The heat in front of him didn't manage to warm anything. The cold came from within.
A silent whirlwind swirled inside him.
There was no guilt. There was no nobility. Only that dull hollow between his chest and his throat... where unanswered questions reside.
"I'm not a hero," he murmured, almost voiceless, as if speaking to himself. "
I don't even know why I did what I did..."
His voice cracked at the end. Not from sadness,
but from suppressed fury.
He looked down, letting his wet hair cover his eyes.
The flames continued to dance, reflecting on his face as if trying to burn away what he kept silent.
"I just... couldn't leave her there."
And deep down, that one truth—so simple, so visceral—
tore at him more than any wound he'd ever felt in his raw flesh.
It was a crack.
Not a burst. Not a collapse.
Just... a small fissure.
Invisible to the world. But deep, as only things that break soundlessly can be.
It had opened right in her center.
Not with violence, but with that cruel precision that only true gazes possess. And it all began when she looked at him in fear... and didn't look away .
She didn't back away.
She didn't scream. She didn't judge him.
She just looked at him.
And that gaze—trembling, sincere, almost fragile—
pierced every wall he believed to be intact.
It was there,
in that blink of an eye, that something inside him gave way .
As if that invisible line, right in the middle of his chest, had been waiting... waiting for someone with the courage to see him for who he was.
Not as a weapon.
Not as a monster. But as a boy... who didn't know how to stop running away from himself.
She didn't beg him.
She didn't cry.
She just looked at him.
And in that instant...
something inside Rei broke without a sound.
Now, as the water trickled slowly down her neck—sliding like cold fingers over her skin—
and the fire licked the darkness with its flickering light,
Rei Tsukishiro found herself thinking something she'd never allowed herself to think before:
"Since when... do I care so much about someone who isn't me?"
It wasn't a grand revelation.
There were no flashes of lightning, no internal explosions. Just that spark.
Small. Persistent.
A low voice that burned beneath the silence...like the campfire in front of him: humble, but impossible to ignore.
He didn't say a word.
He didn't need to.
He simply leaned toward her.
Slowly. As if the movement itself carried years of weight. His shoulders creaked from the cold, and a thin stream of steam escaped his lips as he exhaled.
And then...
his hands moved.
Still damp from the rain, trembling slightly from the night,
Rei's hands slid toward her backpack. Not in a hurry. Not out of duty. But with that silent care one only has for things one fears breaking.
He rummaged inside.
And from the little he had with him, he pulled out a small roll of clean bandages.
He held them between his fingers for a moment,
as if that small roll of bandages were something much more than simple cloth. As if, by unrolling them and using them, he could express everything his voice kept quiet, everything he was afraid to reveal, but that burned within him.
With slow movements—serene, almost ceremonious—
Rei began to place the bandages over the midnight coat that already wrapped the girl's body, each fold a silent act of care and protection, a wordless language that sought to heal more than skin.
They weren't blankets.
They weren't heavy, they weren't warm enough...but in that moment, they were enough .
Like a thin shield between her and the world.
He did it with the kind of care you can't teach.
The kind of gesture you make when you truly care about something.
Every crease, every fold, was part of a silent ritual. As if he were also trying to envelop the silence, the fear...
and the guilt.
He didn't touch her directly.
He didn't look her in the eye. But every gesture he made spoke louder than any words.
"I just want you to be okay..."
He didn't say it.
He didn't have to. It was in the way his fingers trembled slightly. In the way he held his breath. In the way he lowered his head when he finished, as if offering a fragment of himself without asking for anything in return.
And without fully understanding why...
that was enough.
Beside him, she remained lying.
Wrapped in the warmth of her coat, she breathed with the gentleness of someone who doesn't yet know if she's dreaming... or about to wake up. Her chest rose and fell slowly, and a wisp of steam escaped from between her parted lips, as soft as a sigh.
A lock of her hair, damp and messy, fell onto the makeshift blanket, caressing his cheek.
It looked like a painting. A scene not meant to be broken with words.
And Rei, for a moment, just... looked at her .
Not as a protector. Not as a stranger. But as someone who didn't know why... but felt that that moment, there in the rain, had to be treasured forever .
Then, very slowly...
Her fingers moved. Her eyelids trembled. And her breathing changed just a little, as if her soul were returning to her body after a long journey.
I was waking up.
Not a simple dream, but something deeper.
Like someone who's been lost in a fog... and finally begins to remember their name.
Rei's face turned toward her, serious but attentive. He said nothing. He just watched, with the same silence with which one contemplates the dawn for the first time after a night that seemed eternal.
Her eyelashes fluttered faintly, as if something invisible were brushing against her soul.
The murmur of the rain was still falling somewhere... but now it sounded distant, like a blurred echo of a world that wasn't this one. The firelight, warm and alive, caressed her face with soft, golden fingers. And for a moment... she thought she was dreaming.
She opened her eyes slowly, as if waking from a thin, fragile sleep.
The light surrounding her was dim, a gently pulsing orange glow, like the light that filters through a window at dawn. Everything felt warm, though moisture still hung in the air, heavy and cool.
"...Huh?" she whispered, her lips parted in a shy, almost uncertain sigh.
He blinked once.
Then again. And then, he felt it.
A weight on her body.
Not cold or heavy, but warm and enveloping, like a silent embrace that retains the warmth of a thousand good intentions, of unspoken promises.
Moving slowly, still dazed by the night fog and the rain, she looked down.
And there it was.
A coat.
Large.
Dark.
Heavy with moisture, yet covering her with a delicacy impossible to fake.
The scent of fresh rain lingered on the fabric, mingled with a hint of wet asphalt, dust, and long nights.
It was the smell of someone who had been alone through many storms, yet had still found the strength to care.
He brought his fingers to the edge of the fabric and held it with a gentle trembling, as if touching something fragile and forbidden.
He recognized it instantly: the cut, the weave, the just-right weight.
"Th-this is...?" Her voice broke into a thread, her heart skipped a silent leap.
It wasn't his.
It was his.
And at that moment, while the nearby fire was still crackling and throwing golden sparkles that danced in the gloom, and the rain was singing its eternal song beyond the bridge, a sudden, warm clarity passed through her:
"He took off his coat... to give it to me."
Her eyes flew open, as if an invisible touch had awakened her from within. For a moment, she held her breath, trapped in that sacred instant where everything else disappears.
The world was reduced to that coat, that warmth...
and the silent presence of someone who, without words, had said more than a thousand promises.
Her heart skipped a beat, one of those leaps you can't understand with reason... you just feel them, deep and without warning.
Her gaze lowered slowly, almost in slow motion, until it settled on the coat that covered her like a second skin, warm and heavy.
Her fingers closed tightly on the damp fabric, trembling slightly.
It wasn't just a garment. It was much more than that. A silent gesture. A shield against the cold... A silent promise that needed no words.
"Did you cover me with this... just so I wouldn't get cold?"
The inner voice whispered, weak and hesitant.
"And him... even though he was completely soaked?"
The thought pierced her, sharp as a small thorn.
A lump formed in her throat, heavy and tight.
She tried to speak... but the words stuck, trapped in her chest. And yet, the fire inside her burned bright, vibrant, impossible to ignore.
"Why... did you do this?" she finally whispered, her voice barely a whisper, cracking with emotion.
It was more a question for herself than for him.
Silence responded with the force of a thousand unspoken words.
The crackling of the fire filled the air with a steady rhythm, but to her, that sound became a distant echo, drowned out by the accelerated drumming of her own heart.
Fast. Restless. As if she'd just discovered something unexpected, something she didn't even know she'd been looking for.
Without thinking, she clutched the coat with both hands, clutching it to her chest as if letting go meant losing an essential part of herself.
The damp fabric touched her skin with a clammy chill, but inside that coat was an invisible warmth, one that seemed to absorb all her doubts and fears.
Her cheeks burned a warm red that spread to her ears, trapping her in a mixture of vulnerability and a strange strength.
Her breathing became ragged, almost trembling. Her lips, soft and damp from the rain, moved soundlessly, searching for words that couldn't be found. A shudder ran through her body, a mixture of cold, nerves, and something deeper, like a new heartbeat being born inside her.
She looked away, the blush still burning in her cheeks.
Her eyes, cloudy and trembling, avoided the fire as if they feared something. As if she could see herself reflected in those dancing flames...and she wasn't ready to face what she would find.
Because fire didn't just warm.
It observed. Its sparks seemed capable of laying bare the most hidden emotions, of exposing everything one dared not say.
And it was then, under that flickering light, with her heart beating faster than her thoughts,
that she lowered her head...and, with her voice low, barely a whisper caught between the steam of her breath and the weight of something she didn't know how to explain, she murmured:
—I don't understand... why did you do that...
It wasn't a reproach.
Nor a real question. It was more like a thought out loud, one of those truths that escape without permission when the heart can no longer hold them.
Her words floated in the air like petals carried by the wind: fragile, but impossible to ignore.
She hugged the coat tighter, clutching it to her chest. The warmth was no longer enough to calm the trembling in her voice... because what shook her wasn't the cold.
It was something else. A new sensation. Unsettling. Almost sweet.
"You don't know me," he added, lowering his gaze, his lips pursed. "
You didn't have to do that."
And yet you did it.
A spark from the fire leaped out, illuminating his eyes for an instant, just as a thought crept in, soft but sharp, like an ice needle:
"You're going to get sick..."
The lump in her throat tightened, a mixture of fear, tenderness... and something she couldn't yet name.
"And yet... you gave me the only thing that protected you."
"Why?" he whispered at last, his voice barely breaking the murmur of the rain.
"Why did you give me your coat...?"
Across the fire, Rei didn't respond immediately.
He just turned his face slightly, and for the first time, he looked at her directly. His eyes were calm. But inside them... there was something else.
A silent fire.
An "I care about you" I didn't yet know how to pronounce.
And that was enough.
He wanted to get up.
To say something. To return the gesture with a word, a look, even a simple "thank you" that trembled in his throat.
But as soon as he tried to move his body, a sharp pain, like an invisible spear, pierced his side.
"Ah..." she blurted out, unable to prevent a stifled gasp.
Her eyes squeezed shut, her fingers clenched desperately in the damp coat.
The world barely spun. Not from vertigo, but from helplessness. It was as if her body was screaming before her mouth could: "Not yet... you're not ready yet."
The fire continued to crackle, oblivious, peaceful.
The rain pounded the world beyond the bridge, steady, like a second heartbeat.
She bit her lip gently, frustrated.
"I want to say something... I want to thank you. But I can't even sit down."
She lay back slowly, breathing carefully, as if the slightest movement could break her again.
And then, she turned her face slightly toward him. He was still there. Silent. Vigilant. With that serene expression that she didn't know if it reassured her... or disarmed her further.
"I'm sorry..." he murmured, not quite knowing why.
Maybe it wasn't the pain.
Maybe it was the inability to give back everything he had already given her, without asking for anything.
Just then, his voice broke the silence.
It wasn't a scream. It wasn't loud. But it was firm enough to feel like thunder contained between the pounding in his chest.
—You shouldn't move like that...
It was just that.
A brief phrase, spoken with the dryness of someone who has learned not to show what they feel. But also with just enough weight to make her stop.
She turned her face, surprised.
And he saw it.
Rei was still there, exactly as he'd first opened his eyes.
Soaked. Motionless. Raindrops fell from his hair like shooting stars, sliding down his icy skin without him even blinking. The fire cast golden shadows over his face, drawing soft lines across his jaw, his brow slightly furrowed, his eyes... Deep. Grave. As if they contained storms he refused to let go of.
He didn't look at her directly.
But just seeing her like that, still in front of the fire, was enough to know he was listening to everything. That he didn't need to see her to be present.
"Your wounds aren't deep," he said then, with a calmness that wasn't indifference, but self-control. "
But if you try hard... they'll hurt more than they should."
She swallowed.
And for a second, everything inside her trembled.
The words were simple.
Yes. But they were layered with something else.
A harsh warmth.
A care that couldn't be expressed aloud.
And then he understood.
That voice that sounded like wet stone, that gaze that was lost in the flames...
They were made of things he didn't know how to show.
"He cares about me..." she thought, a lump tightening in her throat.
"I don't know why... but he cares about me."
She hugged the coat a little tighter to her chest, feeling the warmth still trapped in the damp fabric.
His warmth. From someone who didn't hesitate to stay by her side... even when the world was against him.
"I'm... sorry," he murmured suddenly, his voice low. "
For worrying you."
His words dissolved into the air like the vapor of his breath.
But Rei didn't respond.
He just lowered his chin a little, as if that apology was more than he expected...
...and more than he knew how to handle.
The fire between them crackled again, throwing soft sparks into the gray sky.
"Don't apologize," he said finally, barely moving. "
You're alive. That's enough."
She looked at him.
Her eyes, large and trembling, shone silently, as if reflecting not only the fire...
but something else. Something that was just beginning to awaken within her.
And for the first time...
...smiled.
It wasn't a big smile.
It wasn't bright, nor confident. But it was real. Small. Shy. Like a new shoot in the middle of a long, cold night.
A flower that decides to be born, even though winter has not yet left.
The fire between them crackled softly, as if it understood.
As if its flames also knew that something sacred had happened in that instant.
And it kept burning.
Not as a simple bonfire.
Not as another shelter from the cold.
But as a bridge.
A bridge made of shared warmth, of silences that spoke louder than words,
and of gestures so small... that only the heart could understand them.
She lowered her gaze, just for a second, as if the intensity of that moment had completely enveloped her.
And then she raised them again... searching for his profile.
Rei was still there.
Quiet. Still. But he didn't seem far away anymore.
Not quite.
Her presence, once imposing and closed, now felt... different.
Vulnerable. Close. Human.
She looked at him, her chest heaving from the silent struggle against the lump that continued to tighten her throat, that lump that forms when something hurts... but also moves.
And in that instant, he understood.
He wasn't just a warrior. He
wasn't just the strong guy who fought without breaking a sweat, the one who kept all his demons to himself.
He was someone who... without saying anything, without asking for anything in return, took off the only coat he owned.
Someone who sat in the rain just to make sure she could sleep in peace.
And that... hurt.
But it also healed.
Because that's only done by someone who, even with all their wounds, still knows how to care for another.
"You... aren't what everyone thinks, are you?" she whispered, not quite sure why she said it.
There was no immediate response.
Just the sound of the fire, the rain softly hitting the concrete... and Rei's shallow breathing.
But in the slight trembling of her eyelashes,
in the almost imperceptible way her jaw loosened, as if for a moment she let her guard down against the world...
She found the answer.
Not in words.
Not in promises. But in the invisible.
In everything that is only revealed when two souls—wounded, tired, confused—
allow themselves to feel.
And that was enough.
Enough for the air to change.
So that the night, once heavy and tense, now seemed softer...as if the whole world were holding its breath.
And then, without anyone mentioning it,
without a single word confirming it...
A bridge began to form between them.
Not made of stone.
Not of fire. But of something much more fragile...and much stronger.
Of gazes held for barely a second longer than usual.
Of awkward but sincere gestures. Of silences that ceased to be awkward... and became companionship.
A bridge made of shared breaths under the same rain.
Of a coat given without asking for it back. Of a wound bandaged with trembling hands, and a smile born without permission, only because the heart could hold it no longer.
There, under the bridge, between the mist and the warm crackling of the fire,
something was beginning to be born.
Small.
Indefinable. But real.
It wasn't love.
Not yet. But it was the beginning of something resembling hope.
And that, for two people who had forgotten how to trust someone...
was already much more than they dared to ask for.
His words fell upon the cold air like a soft blanket, enveloping the silence in an unexpected warmth.
For a moment, she looked at him—not as the boy who had saved her, but as someone who had carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and yet he had taken off his coat to give it to her.
The girl watched him in silence, her eyes mixing wonder with something indefinable,
an emotion she still couldn't find a name for. Her dark brown hair dripped, forming small rivers of water that ran down her serious face. The steam from her breath escaped in brief clouds, which were lost in the cold of the night. Her clothes, soaked, hung on her light body, although she knew they must weigh on her like an invisible burden.
He was freezing.
And yet, he didn't seek shelter. He didn't ask for a blanket. He didn't go near the fire. He didn't think about himself.
He just stood there.
Silent. Motionless.
Like a shadow that decided to burn,
so that it wouldn't go out.
"Y-you... covered me with this...?" he asked, his voice shaking, as if each word weighed more than the last.
"Why...?" he whispered, barely audible, his eyes fixed on the coat he was still holding. "Weren't you... freezing? Doesn't it hurt...? Why... did you give me something you yourself needed?"
Her hands gripped the coat tightly, as if letting go would mean losing something intangible,
something that protected her beyond the cold, beyond the coat itself.
Rei took a second. Barely an instant.
Just that brief moment in which one decides whether it's worth breaking the silence and revealing the truth.
When he finally spoke, his words were simple, direct.
No embellishment. No posing. No need for heroism.
"You were shivering," he said, with a calmness that seemed to envelop all the cold of the night.
That was it.
No long explanations. No grandiloquent phrases.
Just two words.
But those two words were enough to fill the air with a meaning no other phrase could achieve.
It was enough to ignite something in her chest that not even the fire in front of her could match.
A warm, sudden emotion... that didn't hurt like a wound, but like a sweet knot in her chest.
"He noticed... He looked at me. And without saying anything... he took off his coat for me."
A silence settled between them.
But it wasn't cold anymore. It wasn't uncomfortable anymore. It was something else.
It was new.
It was shaking. And it hurt... nicely.
She lowered her head.
A barely visible smile trembled on her lips, as if it had been born without permission. Her cheeks, flushed with a soft blush, glowed in the firelight, and it seemed as if every word she didn't dare say hung in the air... waiting to escape.
She hid a little further behind the collar of her coat, sinking in as if she wanted to disappear... but only a little.
Just enough to not feel so exposed. Just enough to feel safe.
—Th-thank you... —he finally murmured, his voice trembling, low...
So soft that it seemed more like a thought than a real sound.
Rei looked up.
Barely. But enough for his eyes to linger on her.
And for an instant, something cracked in his expression .
It wasn't obvious. It wasn't exaggerated. But there it was: a pause in his breathing, a slight blink, and that almost imperceptible way his eyes seemed to say,
"You don't have to thank me..."
He didn't say anything.
But his silence had a different weight.
It was a silence that spoke.
One that said, "I heard you." One that said, "It's okay."
Then, as if he didn't want her to notice, Rei looked back at the fire , just as calmly as before.
But inside him...something was also burning. Small. New. And dangerously warm.
Outside, the rain continued to fall relentlessly, battering the world as if trying to erase what had happened... one drop at a time.
The wind carried the distant echoes of cars, puddles, the things that still existed out there.
But under the bridge... everything was different.
There, only the fire spoke.
Their soft crackles broke the silence like warm whispers among shadows, filling the air with a slow, almost hypnotic rhythm.
The flames flickered, casting golden glints that reflected off the wet concrete walls. The heat was faint... fragile... as if it could go out at any moment.
But it was enough.
It was enough to make that little corner of the world feel different.
And in the midst of that orange gloom, something inside the girl's chest beat harder than before .
Wrapped in Rei's coat—still damp, but warm inside—she hugged herself, her fingers clutching the fabric, as if she could hold something she didn't want to let go of in that gesture.
Her breathing was calm... but not entirely. There was a slight, almost imperceptible tremor vibrating just beneath her skin.
He frowned, just a little.
Not from physical pain... but from that strange discomfort that arises when something inside you tries to remember, but can't.
Her eyes, still sleepy, fixed on the fire in front of her.
They watched it with an intense stillness, as if waiting for the flames to whisper a forgotten truth to her. As if her mind were trying to unravel an invisible knot through the flickering reflection of that warm, living light.
"There's something there..."
"A memory..."
"A feeling..."
The fire danced.
And in every spark, in every flicker of light, I thought I saw something that shouldn't be there: Distorted shadows moving like echoes of the past. Muffled, distant voices... A solitary figure standing in the rain. Raised fists. Muffled screams.
And then, fear.
Not my own, but the kind you feel when everything around you is shattering... and you don't know why.
Her eyelashes fluttered.
A shaky breath escaped her lips. And for a second, she thought she was going to remember. But no. The fire flickered...and the image faded.
He brought his hand to his chest, his fingers trembling, as if he could dispel the fog with just a touch.
As if the answers were hidden right there,
beneath that coat that someone—someone soaked, someone who had no business doing it—
had placed over him with a care that didn't fit in this cold world.
A chill ran down her spine.
But this time... not because of the weather.
And without fully understanding why,
without having any clarity in his mind yet,
he knew he could no longer remain silent.
"Hey... you..." he whispered, his voice so low that he seemed afraid to break the silence by just mentioning him.
She didn't dare look at him.
Her eyes remained fixed on the fire, but her voice trembled with that fragility that only comes from someone who has been holding onto something that burns inside for so long.
It was as if the words had to fight their way out from deep within his chest...
as if it hurt to get them out.
Rei replied , her murmur barely audible.
He didn't turn around.
There was no exaggerated or theatrical gesture. Just a slight inclination of his head toward her, as if... he already knew .
As if, deep down, he understood that something important—something that had been bottled up for too long—
was about to come out.
The rain continued to drip in the distance.
The fire crackled softly. And in the midst of it all... their hearts were preparing for a moment that could change everything.
The girl swallowed hard, as if her body was trying to prepare for something her mind wasn't yet ready to face.
Her fingers moved restlessly, toying with the hem of the coat that covered her.
They twisted the damp fabric over and over, as if clinging to an anchor in a storm only she could feel.
She clutched the fabric tightly.
The warmth still imbued within was the only thing that felt real. Everything else... seemed as fragile as a dream about to fade away.
Her trembling eyes stared into the fire.
But they didn't see it.
They looked beyond.
As if, in every spark, a truth
she didn't yet dare to remember might be hidden.
"Before I fainted..." he finally murmured, his voice weak,
as if each word were heavier than the last. "...I remember voices..."
He paused.
His lips trembled.
"Screams..." he continued, more quietly, almost breathless
, "and... a bang. Loud. As if someone had... fallen to the ground..."
His voice broke at the end, fading like a flame about to die.
He spoke slowly, leaving long spaces between each sentence.
But they weren't just pauses.
They were cracks.
Cracks through which blurred images, old emotions, and a feeling of pain I didn't know was still raw crept in.
On the other side, Rei didn't say anything.
But her body... did.
His hands clenched tightly on his knees,
knuckles tense, jaw clenched. As if he were holding back something he couldn't—or wouldn't—say.
She swallowed again.
Her eyes lowered, trembling... but determined.
"I... heard a voice," she said in a whisper.
"It was deep... raspy... but..."
She slowly looked up, her eyes searching his.
—It was yours, wasn't it?
Rei barely raised her face.
The fire illuminated her wet, serious profile. She didn't look at him directly...but her silence spoke volumes.
And she understood.
"It was you," he whispered, a mixture of disbelief... and something warmer in his voice.
"You... screamed.
You stood up for me."
Isn't that so?
Rei closed her eyes for a second.
She took a deep breath, as if preparing to cross a line she'd been trying to avoid.
And then, without raising his voice, without drama, he answered:
—I just did what I had to.
His tone was low, calm...
almost cold.
She looked at him, a little puzzled.
She'd expected something more. A heroic response. A sentence that explained everything, like in the stories you hear as a child.
But that...
that was so typical of him.
Not very loud.
Nothing grand. Just present.
Silence fell between them again.
But it wasn't awkward or empty. It was like a light blanket covering them, filled with things they hadn't said, but that were beginning to feel the same.
The fire sparked again, casting soft shadows across their faces.
The breeze played with the smoke, while the rain outside became a distant murmur. And amidst that uncertain calm, she looked down, a small smile forming on her lips.
Shy. Insecure.
One of those who don't know if they're allowed to be born...but they do it anyway, like a sigh that escapes from the chest.
"Thank you," she said, so softly that it almost seemed as if she were speaking more to the fire than to him.
Her fingers were still clutching the damp coat. As if letting go meant going back into the cold.
Rei didn't respond immediately.
He just glanced at her. A spark of fire reflected in his pupils, and for the first time in a long time... it wasn't anger anymore. Nor was it guilt.
It was relief.
Silent. Fragile. But real.
As if, just for that moment,
everything that hurt inside...had found a place to rest.
"You don't have to be thankful," he finally murmured, his voice low, deep... but softer than ever. "
Just... pull yourself together."
She looked up, her eyes shining.
"Can I... stay like this a little longer?" she asked, lowering her voice slightly, as if afraid of breaking the moment.
Rei remained silent.
And then, without turning around, she just nodded.
—Hmp. Do what you want. —And although his tone sounded dry... something in his face loosened.
A respite. A respite.
They both stared back at the fire.
They didn't speak. They didn't need to.
And for the first time, under that bridge...
they were no longer alone.
— End of Chapter —
📖 Author's Comment ✒️
He who daydreams...
is one step away from creating magic.
Thank you for joining me once again.
See you in the next chapter...
— 夢と雨と言葉の仙人
— Yume to ame to kotoba no sennin
— The Hermit of Dreams, Rain, and Words
— The Great Master Makoto-sama